


Prosaic and Blithe

by Psychological_Remedy



Series: My Bad Poetry [2]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Class Assignment, Gen, Poetry, School Work, color symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:56:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychological_Remedy/pseuds/Psychological_Remedy
Summary: This was a Writing 121 assignment that I decided to post here, due to lack of recent creativity. This was an icebreaker vocabulary poem—essentially I had to include at least five vocabulary words from a list my teacher gave us in order to write a poem about myself. This isn’t particularly good, but I enjoy it on a certain level. And hey, it got me an A!





	Prosaic and Blithe

My world didn’t have  
A lot of colors when  
I was a kid.

I remember very clearly  
The day all color disappeared.  
When the first man in uniform stepped into the hallway  
Of our apartment,  
His footprints were a distinctive grey.  
And as the pair stayed longer, the darker the grey got.  
The grey travelled up the wall like ivy, taking root amongst  
Our family photos.  
The tendrils stained our walls, removed their pigment,  
And as my mother’s wails grew louder, the grey turned black.

A monochrome fog settled into  
Our living room, and stayed until my mom  
And I escaped into our first house.  
But the two of us inhaled the fog for  
Too long.  
It damaged us. Disfigured us.

Though we might have moved out over a decade ago,  
For us that condo is permanently singed  
From the painful memories of his death.  
My mom became two different women;  
The strong yet plaintive single mom fighting to make her life better,  
And the sardonic widow, angry at the world, not afraid to take it out on everyone around her.  
I became two different children;  
The happy, bubbly, blithe girl looking for a smile,  
And the sullen, creepy girl whose words bring nothing but darkness and pain.

It took a year for us to get out  
And breathe again.  
But while my mom got better,  
I got worse.  
Her personalities evolved,  
Resolved their issues,  
Became whole again.  
Mine devolved,  
Clashing with each other,  
Yet still managed to merge into one,  
Becoming a malicious, petulant hybrid.  
The color came back for my mom almost instantly;  
The color didn’t come back  
For me.

I let the fog take hold,  
Warp my mind into a state  
Of apathy.  
I didn’t want anyone to get too close,  
And yet I still wanted someone to reach out.  
It was an uphill battle that I always lost.

When I met my first best friend,  
Red began to come back.  
Vibrant and dull, neon and burgundy.  
Flecks and splashes like paint on a canvas.  
She taught me how to be angry again  
After four years of feeling numb,  
Submerged underwater and falling farther into the deep.

Blue came back the next year,  
After the grey became too much for me  
To handle one day.  
I saw her cry;  
That day I realized two things.  
One, she cared. She actually cared. After losing my dad and being harassed every single day for three years,  
I found someone who finally cared.  
Two, I never wanted to cause someone that much pain ever again.

When I came to HS2,  
After being harassed all of my childhood  
By the only people who would speak to me,  
And meeting my lifelong friend,  
I couldn’t look anyone in the eye.  
I was scared someone would hit me.  
No one ever has,  
but it still doesn’t stop me from flinching.  
The environment was a necessary change.  
As I gradually became more comfortable with my new school, people started reaching out.  
It was strange, having people actually want to be your friend. It was a good feeling.  
It brought back yellow.  
It felt like the sun.

While people reached out,  
Only a few people remained by the next year.  
I wasn’t that surprised; I’m not that interesting once you get to know me.  
The year after that,  
Even fewer people remained, and I got reaccustomed to spending my lunch alone.  
Then I met my two best friends.  
She brought purple,  
Deep and rich,  
and he brought green,  
Wild and fresh.

As I met more people,  
More and more of my life changed.  
Something inside of me woke up  
After years of staying dormant.  
I never wanted it to  
Fall back asleep.

During my junior year,  
I learned a lot of lessons,  
And reflected a lot on my past decisions.  
Not all of them were good;  
Most of them I shouldn’t have done.  
But I learned. I felt regret.  
I realized I need to forgive, but not forget.  
Not hold on to anger, yet still keeping my voice.  
Standing up for myself as a human being,  
Without pushing people away.  
This year,  
I finally feel stable.  
I can see again.

**Author's Note:**

> The vocabulary words I used were: Sullen, Plaintive, Malicious, Prosaic, Sardonic, and Blithe. I even decided to be extra and used them in my title. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
